


Going Home

by phanicatthekidsarentalright (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Fighting, Fluff, M/M, Phan - Freeform, but its cute at the end, dan gets a lil hurt im so sorry, dan is sad, drunk, pub, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 19:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6870304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/phanicatthekidsarentalright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fight, Dan storms out and goes to get drunk at a bar. He gets into a brawl and stumbles home to find an apologetic Phil’s waiting arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home

How did Dan Howell get here?

How did he get from the warm confines of his London flat, from the comforting arms of his boyfriend, from his comfortable position in his sofa crease, to the dark streets of London, hands tucked in his pockets and head down?

All he wanted was to run back to his boyfriend and best friend of six years, Phil, and apologise profusely for the harsh words that were exchanged, but he was too proud to do so. So damn proud, he’d resorted to angrily trudging down to the pub as opposed to safely heading back home, simply apologising to Phil and spending the night in a much more comfortable setting.

London was fairly quiet; it was, after all, nearly 11pm on a Wednesday night. The streets were mostly deserted, with only the occasional car racing past, yet Dan still kept his guard up, trying to ignore the ache in his heart. 

Thoughts of the empty, quiet streets of London were immediately abandoned when Dan arrived at the pub. It was bustling; large hoards of middle-aged men yelled loudly in thick accents, spewing curse words about topics they alone felt so passionate about. Dan swallowed, feeling slightly out of place, and stepped forward towards the counter.

He drank away his sorrows, guilt and anger, sitting alone at the bar, constantly requesting a refill until he could barely see past his hands resting in front of him. The world was blurry, and all Dan could feel was regret; regret and a strong feeling of floating, of drowning out the racket around him.

This situation was working rather well for Dan until, unexpectedly, he felt a hand roughly shaking his shoulder. He could vaguely make out distinct sounds of angry voices, or maybe it was just one voice; Dan honestly couldn’t tell.

He turned around to face the perpetrator, whose strong hand was still locked on Dan. He squinted, trying to bring his vision back into focus, but it was still alarmingly clouded. Who was this? Was there one guy screaming at him, or two? He couldn’t make out more than a silhouette. 

Suddenly, Dan managed to catch and actually comprehend some of the words being projected towards him. It was something along the lines of, “Are you even listening to me, asshole?” And within a second Dan had been shoved back against the counter.

He frowned, trying to regain his balance, opening his mouth to speak and try to retaliate or at least calm this guy down, but he wasn’t given a chance. A fist came swinging towards his face before he even had a moment to make any sort of attempt to duck.

The pain seemed to snap Dan out of his drunk, heartbroken haze, and he quickly stood up, using the stools and counter as support, and successfully dodged the next attempted blow that comes his way. 

“Hey, hey!” He pleaded, covering his injured face with his hands. He looked up after a few seconds to see the attacker still standing over him, fists clenched at his sides, with an expression that looked like he’d be pretty okay with murdering Dan at that point. 

“Hey, okay, calm down. What’s your problem?” Dan accused, frowning at the figure in front of him. Apparently, the last question was a mistake. The man launched himself at Dan, pounding at him with his fists. Dan, now being semi-conscious and not flat out drunk, gathered his own strength and hit back at the man.

In a few seconds, they were in an all out fist fight. Having moved to the centre of the pub’s floor, the pair became a flurry of limbs and shouts and shoves, until finally Dan managed to knock the guy to the ground. He hesitated, wondering if he should stop and ask the man what he did wrong in the first place.

However, he decided his curiosity wasn’t worth it, and turned around, sprinting out of the pub. He practically ran down the street; it was definitely the most exercise he’d done in a while. 

When he finally made it back to his and Phil’s flat, he knocked frantically, realising he’d left his keys inside upon storming out. What a massive twat he was. All he wanted now was to be comforted by Phil, to go back into his rightful place in his arms, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Phil would be mad at him; he had to be.

The door swung open and a bright light shone onto Dan. He was greeted by a solemn Phil Lester, and he prepared himself for the anticipated awkward greeting, awkward apology and reluctant acceptance and welcoming on Phil’s part. 

However, none of Dan’s predictions came to be, because as soon as Phil laid eyes on Dan, his face dropped into a frown mixed with fear, concern and anger. 

“Dan, oh my God, what happened?” Phil asked, rushing forward and taking Dan’s hand in his, using his free hand to cup Dan’s cheek. Dan gulped, trying not to meet Phil’s eyes. He hadn’t thought he looked too beat up, but obviously Phil must’ve been seeing something different to Dan’s expectations.

“Um…nothing,” he answered stupidly. “I just…got into a bit of a fight, I guess.”

Phil’s eyes widened. “What? How?” He gently pulled on Dan’s hand, leading him through the doorway and slowly up the stairs.

“I’m not even sure, to be honest. I drank…a bit, and I guess I was sorta out of it.” 

Phil sighed and rolled his eyes. “Dan, why were you drinking? You know how you get when you drink too much!”

Dan flinched, tears filling his eyes. “I just felt really bad and guilty after our fight. I’m really sorry, Phil.” 

Phil frowned at him, and Dan instantly felt worried. 

“Dan, it’s fine, you think I’m going to hold our stupid fight against you know? C’mon, we have to get you cleaned up. You’re bleeding.”

Dan exhaled in relief. Phil wasn’t mad at him. Sure, it had taken a potentially broken nose and a few bruises for Dan to swallow his pride and come back, but the point was he was back. And Phil wanted him back.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to an anonymous prompt on Tumblr :) Please check out my main blog @twentydanphilots or my fic sideblog @twentydanfics!! Thank you for reading!!


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